"You fought well," the man on his right said. "I didn't expect that from you.""Truth be told,"
Lucivar said standing underneath a large tree shirtless and covered in sweat. "Neither did I."
The man grunted. "Lack of confidence is unbecoming, Lucivar.""You misunderstand,"
Lucivar said taking a glass of water from a passing witch and drinking deep. In front of them was a ring of hard packed earth where the soldiers and armed men of Dene Nehel trained and sparred. Having nothing to do that day and filled with energy, he thought he'd try his hand at sparring. He didn't expect it to go so well. "My body remembers things I do not, Captain. Moves and skills that I think I learned from my past, and they just kicked in so to speak, if you don't mind the pun. They moved of their own accord."
"A military man were you, then?"
Lucivar scoffed. "Me? Hardly. If anything, I probably got into too many fights."
The Captain gave him a sidelong glance. "Knowing you, I don't doubt that."
He grinned and took his shirt from the chair and put it on, followed by his suit jacket. He spared a moment to stretch his wings. "Well, Captain Barr it's been a pleasure, truly. Thanks for letting me humiliate your men."
"I don't exactly see how beating recruits is worthy of gloating, but you do you, Prince.""A win's a win, Captain,"
he called back as he left the training grounds. They weren't exactly training grounds, but rather a section of the manor's garden repurposed as such; the beauty of the place still held as it was surrounded by large hedges and trees provided shade for the guards and soldiers. Beyond the hedges however, the garden opened before him as he stepped onto the cobbled pathway. Fountains dotted the place, birds chirping as they fluttered around. Statues on high plinths in various poses lined the sidewalk and in the distance was the manor. Beige walls with a teal roof and several stories high. It wasn't exactly the biggest structure he'd seen, memories of a larger, more grand manor often and randomly flashed through his memories just before vanishing. He often wondered if he had been in such a position before his memories were lost, it would make sense as the skills to manoeuvre through the Queen's Court came to him as easily as fighting did, as though his body knew exactly what it wanted to do. In this case, his mind would come up with a sudden thought and his instincts would flare up to follow it; he would and there, his wanted results after a few short months.
He stepped out of the garden and onto the backyard where he saw a witch step out of a pillar and approach him, her hands clasped in front of her. "Prince Lucivar," she said. "Prince Tristan requests an audience with you. Today at five?"
He nodded. "Tell him I'd be pleased to have him over,"
he said as he walked into the manor and started climbing the steps to his rooms. Just the name of the Prince was a headache for him. The man was alas an utter idiot. He meant well, nothing he did was out of spite or to stir up controversy. But he had no mind for the political games the Courts played, he was by far too straightforward and honourable for such things. And just like any man he refused to give up his position in the Circle, enjoying the power and privileges being Master of the Queen's Guard gave him. Which was also a headache.
The rooms were large, massive and spacious. The antechamber was filled with fine chairs and several tables. Opposite the door was a short black cabinet that spanned the length of the wall and on top were bottles of wine, whiskey, and other drinks. The room had several doors, the door to the right leading to his bedroom, but he ignored that, instead going to the ones that led to the massive bathroom. Stripping down, he showered then, walking to his rooms dressed in a satin black fitted coat with golden scrollwork along the front. Underneath he wore a simple white shirt tucked into a pair of black pants, and a pair of leather boots inlaid with silver metal. Once dressed, he walked over to his solar, which led from the antechamber and adjacent to his bedroom; inside, he poured himself a cup of wine and sat behind his desk, leaning back on the chair.
"Lucivar," a voice said at the solar's entrance.
He looked up to see Andressa standing there, dressed in a hugging black dress with an incredibly low neckline that accentuated her curves. "You're back early,"
he said, sitting up straight. "I wasn't expecting you for another week, at least."
"There was nothing happening at the Family Estate," she said with a shrug and entered the solar. In her hand was a beige portfolio and she set it on his desk. "So I thought I'd come back. But I did bring you back a present.""What is this?"
"A benefactor of Prince Tristan," she said. "Open it."
He tilted his head in mild amusement and reached for the folder. Inside was the file of Sonya Thorne, a particularly wealthy and incredibly influential witch in the Queen's Court. He grunted, a small smile playing on his lips. "What do we know about her?"
"Other than the fact that she's well connected with other Queens and runs half the businesses in Dene Nehel? Nothing.""Find something on her,"
he said as he stood from his chair. "She wants something from Tristan and I want to know what it is."
"I'll get right on it," Andressa said. "But, that other matter we've been talking about. I've found a a replacement for Tristan, he seems like someone with a good head between his shoulders.""Who is he?"
"He's in the file."
Looking down, he flipped a few pages and found a Prince with a tiger-eye jewel. Colten Swett. A prince that was stirring water in the Courts. He took a moment to read through his file then set it down and smiled at Andressa. "Ambitious young man who could use someone powerful on his side. Contact him. I want a meeting tonight."
"I'll make it happen," she said with a smile and walked out.